


Pushback

by thesaddestboner



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Dubious Ethics, M/M, Manager/Player, New York Yankees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-03
Updated: 2011-11-03
Packaged: 2017-10-27 15:50:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/pseuds/thesaddestboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Kyle pushes back because that’s what he’s always done with Girardi.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pushback

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ravensgurl211](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravensgurl211/gifts).



> Wrote this in response to a comment fic meme I held in my journal. Made a few minor edits.
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thesaddestboner) and [tumblr](http://saddestboner.tumblr.com).

Kyle pushes back because that’s what he’s always done with Girardi. Maybe it would be smarter not to, considering Girardi’s his manager now, but whatever. No one’s ever accused Kyle of being smart.

He really only does it because Girardi pushes back, anyways. He wouldn’t if Girardi didn’t give as good as he got.

Kyle thinks Girardi kind of likes it anyways.

“Hey, _skip_ ,” Kyle sneers in a way he knows Girardi absolutely hates, “you wanted to see me?” Kyle leans in the doorway of Girardi’s office and crosses his arms over his chest, relishing in the way Girardi’s hands tense on his desk and his back stiffens.

Girardi rubs his thumb between his eyes and sighs. “Close the door.”

Kyle does as he’s asked and settles in one of the lumpy office chairs, propping his feet on the corner of Girardi’s desk. “What’s this about?”

“Move your feet off my desk and then we’ll talk,” Girardi says.

“You’re no fun anymore,” Kyle huffs, kicking his feet off his manager’s desk. “Remember that one time in Chicago - ”

Girardi levels a hard glare at Kyle, mouth drawn into a thin line. His fingers curl on his desk. Kyle wonders if he’s imagining strangling him right now. “I didn’t bring you in here to talk about the past, Kyle.”

“You kissed me. You remember _that_ , don’t you?” Kyle continues, expecting - hoping - that Girardi will push back.

Girardi lowers his head and rubs his thumb over his eyelid. “Like I said. Let’s leave the past where it belongs.”

Kyle leans forward and puts his hands on the desk. “ ’m I the only one of your former teammates you fucked around with that you’re managing now or are there more? Did you fuck Posada too? Or was it Jeter? Everyone fuckin’ loves Jeter.”

Girardi snaps his head up and glares, eyes narrowed. His voice is hard, angry, a low rumble. “Get out.”

Kyle smirks. “Thought you wanted me in here to - ”

“I changed my mind,” Girardi says, pointing to the door. “Get out or I’ll - I’ll fucking suspend you.”

“Make me.” Kyle feels smug, victorious. _Checkmate_

There’s something in Girardi’s eyes now, too. A hint of a spark that feels familiar, makes Kyle’s skin tingle delightfully when he realizes what it is.

Girardi’s enjoying this game as much as he is. Kyle’s more than certain of that now.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


End file.
